


It’s where my demons hide

by seratonation



Series: Shelter [1]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Desert, Established Relationship, Hiding, Insomnia, Kissing, M/M, Mornings, Multi, New York City, Nightmares, Rescue, Road Trips, Running, Threesome, Waffles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-06
Updated: 2012-11-06
Packaged: 2017-11-18 02:43:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/555997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seratonation/pseuds/seratonation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony can't take being in New York anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It’s where my demons hide

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Shannen and Nurul <3 Title comes from the song Demons by Imagine Dragons. This story (and this threesome!) have taken over my life. I hope you're enjoying it as much as I am! 
> 
> Unbeta'd so if you see any errors please let me know.

It starts out small. Slowly but surely, Tony pulls away from everyone. He knows he’s doing it, but he can’t seem to stop. He can see himself putting up mental walls and eventually, he’s completely surrounded, so that faces are blurred and voices are faded. 

And still the nightmares come. He tries to sleep in his room, or in the workshop, or on the couch. He sleeps in Clint’s room, or in Bruce’s and it doesn't help. He tries alcohol, sleeping tablets, sex or a combination. In the tower, in California, and even at SHIELD’s base. 

Nothing works. Everything he does reminds him of how close they had come, of how close _he’d_ come. New York was still a mess, there is a whole section where it’s impossible to enter unless you’re part of the clean up. 

The Avengers and SHIELD are doing everything they could to help but there is a limit to even what they are capable of. Tony refuses to visit the site. He’s funding the whole thing, as long as he doesn't have to go down there personally. 

It’s still unavoidable. It’s everywhere, from the Avengers fans to the persistent traffic to the alien tech still lying around in the streets. 

So Tony leaves. It was ridiculously easy to slip out with a bag, to take the trailer van with an uplink to Jarvis and just keep driving. He has to stop in a few places; Chicago, Iowa, Colorado, but he doesn't stay for long. 

When he makes it to Nevada, and the heat starts to make him see things he takes a left onto the sand and drives some more. When there’s nothing but sand and shrubbery for miles he finally stops for good. 

He turns the air conditioning up to full blast, collapses on the bed and goes to sleep. He wakes up a few hours later in a cold sweat, nerves on end. He counts it as a win. At least he’d made it a handful of continuous hours this time. 

Things will get better, he tells himself, and pulls out his work. He keeps Jarvis quiet, lets the music fill the silence, and immerses himself in the programming. 

Days pass. The nightmares change from blue lights and grey bodies to sunlight and human hands, from never-ending stars in space to the crushing claustrophobia of a rock cave. Instead of waking up paralysed, he wakes up gasping for breath clutching at his chest, at the reactor embedded in his rib cage. 

***

“I think we took a wrong turn somewhere.”

“We can’t have, there were no turns to take besides this one.”

Bruce raises an eyebrow at Clint, who’s in the drivers seat not looking at him. “Well, we just passed it again.”

“Why do I feel like we’re going around in circles?” Clint asks, and stops the car on the side of the road. 

“Because we are,” Bruce replies, sighing and looking down at his tablet, “he must be in there somewhere.”

“In where?” Clint asks and looks out, past Bruce’s window to the rolling desert. 

“It’s the only thing that makes sense,” Bruce says. 

“Alright then,” Clint says, starting the car up again, “good thing we took the four by four and not the Audi.”

Bruce smiles at him but Clint is already focusing on the road again, or the lack of road ahead of them.

“You wanna bear right,” Bruce says, “okay, straight from here, a couple of hours I think.”

They have to go around a couple of places that are too rocky, even for the four by four, and they have to circle around until they find the small metal van parked in the desert. 

Clint turns the lights off and approaches slowly. “You think he’s okay?” 

“Jarvis said he was fine,” Bruce replies, also eyeing the van. The lights are on, spilling out into the night, “stop, let’s-let’s go the rest of the way by foot, he should’ve sensed us by now.”

Clint turns the car off, and steps out, Bruce close behind. But before they start towards the van Clint walks around to open the trunk and pulls out his bow from it’s case, then hands a gun to Bruce.

“No,” Bruce says, smiling and putting his hands out, taking a step back, “I’m fine, if anything happens- the Other Guy-”

“I hate when you unintentionally hulk out,” Clint says, “ _you_ hate it when you unintentionally hulk out, maybe this will prevent things from going too far.”

Bruce considers it for a moment longer and takes the gun, although he’s still not happy about it. “Come on, I know you've used one of those before,” Clint says, “SHIELD makes everyone do their training, and Nat is the best teacher you could have hoped for.”

“That doesn't mean I have to like it,” he says, but he takes the safety off and loads the gun, holding it like Natasha taught him, with one hand bracing the other. He looks back at Clint for his cue only to see Clint watching him. “What?”

“That’s so hot, you don't even know.”

“Clint,” Bruce says, “this isn't really the time, we have a boyfriend to rescue, remember?” 

“Right, right,” he says, “but when we get back I’m taking you down to the range myself.”

Bruce rolls his eyes. “Come on, Cupid, we do this and I’ll let you both take me to the range.”

Clint’s eyes widen, and then narrow again. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

Bruce suddenly smirks at him. “You can hold me to a lot of things when we get home.”

“You’re killing me here,” Clint says, but pulls out an arrow, draws, and starts forward, Bruce following him with the gun.

The sound of music filters out into the night. “This is why he didn't hear us,” he whispers, “but I wonder-”

The door flies open and Tony is standing there, cigar between his teeth. His arms and legs are crossed, shoulder leaning on the door jamb, but he’s grinning like he’s expecting them.

Bruce lowers the gun but Clint freezes in place, still a good ten feet away.

“Tony,” Clint says carefully.

“Clint,” Tony replies, then nods at Bruce, “Bruce.”

“On a scale of one to three, how okay are you?” Clint asks.

“Are you seriously using the scale- we’re not even having- okay, okay,” Tony says, “I’d say I’m about a one point three?” 

“What does that mean?” Bruce asks, watching closely. He hasn't moved from his position, but he looks fine, the same he did the last time they saw him. 

“It means I’m in the middle of nowhere and I’m still not sleeping,” Tony says, taking the cigar from his mouth, “but otherwise, I’m peachy.”

Clint finally lowers his bow. “We weren't sure.”

“That’s fair,” he says, “you wanna come in?” 

Bruce puts the safety back on the gun and puts it in his waistband and gets closer, climbs the stairs into the van. When nothing happens, Clint cautiously follows, not taking his eyes off Tony the whole way. 

When they are all inside, Tony mutes the music, closes the door and opens his arms wide. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

Bruce starts to get second thoughts, and he can see Clint is too, even though his back is turned and he’s looking at Tony’s equipment. “Tony,” he says, “what are you doing here?” 

His arms come down and the smile falters before coming back, and Bruce recognizes the slight change. This was the ‘Charm Your Pants Off’ fake smile. “I needed some time away,” he says, “research on solar energy.”

“You couldn't do that at the tower?” Clint asks over his shoulder, “Or in California?” 

“No, this van has the equipment already installed,” he says, and winces, the smile finally leaving for good, “that sounded weak even to me.”

He puts his fingers to his forehead and squeezes his eyes closed. “I thought if I could get away from New York, I won’t keep getting reminded of-of the horror we brought down on it, and I could get some sleep.”

“How did that go for you?” Clint asks, but he looks like he already knows the answer. Looking at the dark circles under Tony’s eyes, Bruce knows the answer too. 

“Not great,” he says, not meeting their eyes, “instead of going away the nightmares have... shifted.”

Clint raises his eyebrows. 

“How so?” Bruce asks.

“Well,” Tony says, “it wasn't so many years ago where I was in a desert a little like this one, and things were taken, and things were given back.” He puts a hand on the arc reactor and it seems almost subconscious. 

“Come home,” Clint says, and Bruce can’t help notice the change from ‘Hawkeye’ to ‘Our Clint’. 

“I don’t-” Tony starts.

“Come home,” Clint repeats, his eyes pleading, “and we’ll help you get through it. You think you were alone out there?” 

“No of course not, but you all got over it.”

Clint actually smiles at that, but Bruce sees him tense up. “Is that what you think?” 

“Tony,” he says, placing a hand on Clint’s arm, “maybe you should pay closer attention.”

Clint suddenly gets up and walks out of the trailer, bow and arrow still clutched in one hand. 

“You’re not the only one who has nightmares,” Bruce continues. 

Tony crosses his arms and this time it’s defensive. “You too?” he asks, “or three, I guess.”

“Me six, actually,” Bruce says, “I don’t think Steve sleeps at all anymore.”

Tony’s mouth twists downwards but he doesn't say anything for a minute. “How do you deal with it?” he finally asks. 

Bruce shrugs. “It gets better with time, you have good days and bad days, you focus on the good things.”

Tony is staring fixedly at the ground, his mouth a definite unhappy line. Bruce gets up and puts a hand on Tony’s bicep, places a soft kiss to the corner of his lips. “Come home,” he whispers, “you don’t have to be alone.”

Tony sighs and uncrosses his arms, so Bruce takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around him. 

“You can ride with us,” he says, “we can send someone out here later to bring the van back.”

Tony turns off all the lights, locks the door and follows Bruce to the car. 

“Ready?” Clint asks when they get in, Bruce in the driver side, and Tony in the back.

“Listen-” Tony starts.

“Don’t worry about it,” Clint interrupts, “let’s get you home.”

Bruce starts the car and they set off. 

***

Tony eventually falls asleep in the back, but Clint and Bruce take turns driving so that they reach their destination at almost four in the morning. 

They wake Tony and pull and push at him until he’s safely in bed, with Clint on one side and Bruce on the other. 

“Where- we can’t be here yet,” Tony murmurs, eyes still closed. 

“We’re in Malibu,” Bruce whispers. 

“We’re going to stay here awhile,” Clint says.

Tony sighs and is fast asleep in seconds. 

“You too,” Clint says to Bruce, “go to sleep.” 

“What about you?” Bruce asks. 

“I’m going to make sure he’s okay.”

***

Tony wakes up a couple of times in the night, but Clint is there when it happens, calming him and wrapping his arms around him. 

He doesn't sleep at all that night, and when it’s early enough to be actually awake he gets out of bed and goes to the kitchen. 

“‘Morning, Jarvis,” he says, voice raspy, “I need to get some stuff done, can you help me out here?”

“Anything you need, Agent Barton,” Jarvis replies. 

“Great,” Clint says, and starts bustling around the kitchen. With the help of Jarvis, he gets the coffee started and has a small pile of waffles by the time Tony walks into the kitchen, hands in pockets, looking for all the world like everything is okay.

“Morning, sunshine,” he says, taking in the apron, the batter and the flour that’s managed to get everywhere.

“Morning, yourself,” Clint replies, taking the waffle off the iron before it burns. 

“So we’re not in New York,” he says, as if commenting on the weather. 

“Nope,” Clint says, drizzling batter on the iron again, “we thought it didn't make sense to drag you back if it was giving you so much trouble.”

Tony nods, slowly making his way closer. “And the waffles?” 

“Breakfast,” Clint replies, “it’s a meal people have in the mornings. I almost made pancakes but...”

“You know I liked waffles better,” Tony finishes for him, now standing in Clint’s space.Clint turns slightly and suddenly their kissing furiously, Clint’s hands fisting in Tony’s shirt. Tony’s hands move up Clint’s shoulders and settle on the back of his neck, his thumbs stroking Clint’s jaw. 

When they break apart, Tony doesn't move away, crowding Clint against the counter, but Clint doesn't care. “Don’t ever leave us again,” he says.

“I,” Tony starts, then something behind Clint catches his eye, “I think your waffle is burning.”

Clint swears and turns in the small space, but the waffle was only a little blackened. “Asshole,” he mutters, pulling the waffle out.

Tony smirks, but before he could retaliate, Bruce shuffles into the kitchen. His curls are a mess and he looks like he’s still half asleep, his eyes barely open. 

“What time’s it?” he mumbles, then, “are those waffles?” 

“Yeah,” Tony says, “Cupid here is a regular housewife.” This gets him a slap on the ass with the spatula Clint has in his hand, but Tony just grins at him.

“How did you sleep?” he asks Bruce.

“Like the dead,” Bruce says, taking down three mugs from the cupboard and pouring out the coffee. He puts sugar in one, milk in the second and both in the third. 

He hands one to Tony first - which earns him a soft peck on the lips - and another to Clint. He then rests on the edge of the counter and wraps his palms around his own cup. “So, plans for today?” 

“We should go to the beach,” Clint says, “it’s been a while since I've gone swimming in sea water.”

“Is that just a ploy to get us naked?” Tony asks, over his cup.

“Absolutely,” Clint says, smiling, “is it working?” 

Tony shrugs. “Sure,” he says, “I have a private spot about five minutes walk from here.”

“Of course you do,” Bruce says, “why am I even surprised anymore?” 

“Because I’m so humble,” Tony replies and Clint outright laughs. 

“Right,” he says, placing the waffles on the table, and getting the syrup, “breakfast first, beach, movies, and then I believe Bruce promised me something.”

“Oh he did, did he?” Tony asks, turning to Bruce, who was starting to blush.

“There might have been some promises made,” Bruce says, “about holding me to things.”

Clint can feel the grin pulling at his lips. “I think the words you used were ‘you can hold me to a lot of things’.”

Tony’s eyebrows shoot up as Bruce hides his face. “Am I going to regret that?” Bruce says through his hands.

“Not at all,” Clint says, drowning his waffle in syrup, “it’ll be good, and tomorrow we’ll go down to the range.” 

“How long are we staying here,” Tony asks, suddenly quiet, looking between them.

“As long as it takes,” Clint says. 

“Don’t you have things to get back to?” he asks, “doesn't SHIELD want you to go on missions or something?”

Clint shakes his head, mouth too full to answer, but Bruce does it for him. “You know he can have leave if he wants?” 

Clint nods, trying to swallow. 

“And how much do you have saved up?” Tony asks.

He shrugs. “I never needed it before,” he manages to say around his mouthful, “and technically, I was never cleared after New York, so... as much as we need.”

Clint can already sense it getting better; having breakfast, nothing to stress them out, this is exactly what they need, so what if it takes a few sleepless nights, it’s nothing he hasn't done before. 

Just as he’s following Tony out after breakfast, Bruce catches his hand, holds him back. “You didn't sleep last night,” he says. 

“It’s no big deal,” Clint replies, tries to walk away, but Bruce doesn't let go. 

“Tonight we switch,” Bruce says. 

“You don’t have to-”

“No big deal,” Bruce replies, smiling. He kisses Clint on the cheek and then pulls him forward, “Come on, I want to see how private this private beach is.”

Clint laughs and allows himself to be pulled along. He’s really going to enjoy his time off.


End file.
